An Apple a Day
by Mother Nature's Daughter
Summary: Oneshot. Wilf tells Donna's young son a wonderful tale, continuing the family tradition of friendship and affiliation with the Doctor. But while the boy has no trouble believing, to Donna he is only a child's story now.


"An Apple a Day"

"...and he got back in his box, and flew away, traveling ever on, towards the newest and greatest of adventures," Wilfred Mott concluded, his arm around his seven year old great-grandson, Johnny Temple. The boy was cuddled up against his Gramps, his head resting on his shoulder, listening. But at the story's end, he raised his head up and looked at his grandfather.

"Wow," he breathed, in awe at the wonderful tale. His flaming red hair, just like his mum's, fell down in his eyes, but he didn't seem to notice. "Is that really true, Gramps? Does the Doctor really exist?"

Wilf nodded fiercely. "Oh_ yes._ You bet he does. I've met him."

"You _have_?" the boy asked, staring with wide blue eyes at the man in front of him in a whole new way, like he was a stranger instead of his beloved Gramps. "What was he like? Did you travel with him?" Not even waiting for an answer, he continued, "Could I? Could I_ meet_ him, Gramps?"

Wilf squeezed his shoulders in a reassuring way. "Oh, I don't know, Squirt," he said affectionately, "the Doctor, he comes and he goes, and you never really know when he's going to show up. But one thing's for sure, Johnny, and that's this... The Doctor will always, _always_ show up when you need him."

-xXx-

The next day, early, early in the morning, before the sun was even up, Johnny was awake in his bed, unable to sleep because his little boy's imagination was working full speed. He was lying on his side, staring out the window at the dark London sky.

His was a house away from all the hustle and bustle of the city; his parents had bought a house in the countryside before he was even born. It was a nice house, big, with lots of land that was the reason for his being able to see dark London sky instead of bright-like-the-middle-of-the-day London skyline. His mum and dad had a lot of money...something about them winning the lottery, they told him. Whatever that was.

Johnny stared at the sky a little bit longer and then sighed loudly. There was nothing out there but black, black, black. It was too cloudy for him to even see the stars Gramps had shown him in his telescope. He rolled over on his back and closed his eyes tightly, pretending that he could see the little blue box flying across the sky above his head. He smiled without opening his eyes, and before he knew it, was drifting off to sleep...

"Wake up, sleepy head! Time for school!"

When Johnny next opened his eyes, it was daylight out and his mum was in his room, flicking on the light switch and shaking his shoulder to rouse him.

"Up, up!" Donna Temple-Noble chided, smiling down at her son. "You're going to be late!"

Johnny made a pathetic whimper deep in his throat and coughed feebly. "I can't go," he mumbled. "I think I'm sick."

Immediately, Donna's face changed to a look of concern. "Are you all right?" she asked, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. "You're not running a fever."

"I think I need...the Doctor," said Johnny quietly.

"The Doctor, eh?" asked the red-haired woman. The worried look had melted off her face, replaced instead by one of amusement. "Doctors are only for really sick people. You, sir, are just a little boy who doesn't want to go to school." She pulled the covers off his bed, exposing him to the cold morning air. He shivered. "Now, up and at 'em. I've made breakfast."

Johnny groaned to himself and climbed out of bed. He followed his mother downstairs to the kitchen, where he saw his breakfast waiting for him at the table. His eyes widened when he was what it was.

"No, no, no," he said, stopping mid-step. "I can't eat that!"

Donna looked over her shoulder at him, then followed his gaze to the item sitting next to his breakfast plate: a big, shiny, juicy red apple. "But you love apples," she said, picking the fruit up, not understanding.

"An apple a day keeps the Doctor away!" her son shouted, taking the apple from her and chucking it off to the side. He looked up at her. "Don't you want the Doctor to come, Mum?"

-xXx-

Donna sighed, placed a hand over her eyes. "I'm telling you, Gramps," she said to Wilf, "he's obsessed with this Doctor business. He hasn't shut up about it for weeks now. I've no idea what he's on about."

"Ah," Wilf sound, shuffling his feet slightly and trying not to look guilty. "I'm afraid that's my fault," he began, quite sheepishly.

Donna shot him a sharp look. "You had something to do with this?" she demanded.

Wilf smiled slightly. "Eh, well, yeah." He was afraid to tell her more, for fear she would remember... He had not forgotten the Doctor's warning. "It's just a story, see? A silly story I made up for the lad. He quite liked it, I suppose. But it was just a little bedtime tale." His heart ached to reduce the Doctor's life to such a status, but even saying his name in front of Donna gave his heart a cold chill of fear.

His granddaughter crossed her arms. "Go on, then, if it's so good," she said. "Let's hear this little tale of yours. How's it go, then?" she gave him an expectant look.

"Er, well, there's an alien..." Wilf's heart pounded, his breath came faster. He fought to keep calm. How much would it take for Donna to remember? One word could be all that was needed to trigger it, to destroy her. "...called the Doctor. And he...he travels around in...er, his spaceship, and saves people. The end," he said quickly.

Donna raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "That's a great story. I can see what has Johnny so hooked." She stood up to leave, but Wilf stopped her with a touch of his hand.

"No, Sweetheart, wait," he said. "Just think about it for a bit, yeah? A little boy hears a story about outer space and adventure and a wonderful hero... It's enough to appeal to anyone, don't you think? Just let him have his fun."

Donna was silent for a moment, considering. Then she nodded. Smiled. "Yeah, Gramps, I guess you're right. The Doctor does sound like a wonderful story."

-xXx-

"Mum, I'm hungry," Johnny said later that night.

"There's apples in the kitchen," his father, Shaun, told him. He and Donna sat on the couch, her head on his chest, his arm around her shoulder.

Johnny's eyes widened in panic and he looked to his mother. Without a word, she smiled and got up, dragging him along to the kitchen, where she picked up the bag of apples on the counter.

"I can't eat those, Mum. An apple a day—"

"Yeah, I know. And you know what?" Donna grinned at him and winked. "I think you're right. Everyone needs see the Doctor once in awhile. It's only healthy." And she tossed the apples in the trash.

Johnny's face broke out in a grin of pure delight and he hugged her tighter than he ever had before. "Thank you, thank you!" he shouted, before racing back off to the living room.

"Wrap it up, son, it's getting late," Shaun called out to him as Donna rejoined him on the couch. Together they watched their son play. He had taken a blanket off his bed and tied it around his neck and was running around, with it billowing out behind him.

"Is that your cape?" his father asked.

"No, my trench coat!" Johnny shouted back. "The Doctor doesn't wear a cape; he wears a long brown coat!" He continued running, towards a box he had set up in the corner of the room.

"And what's that?" asked his mother.

"The Doctor's spaceship, of course!" He ducked down on hands and knees to crawl inside, but Donna was already up off the couch, and pulling him back. He struggled. "No, Mum, not yet! We have to go, there's trouble on Mars!"

"Oh, is there?" Donna's voice held laughter. "Well, it's time for his young companion to go to bed. The Doctor will just have to handle that on on his own."

"But he can't, Mum, he can't," Johnny said, and there was real pain in his voice. "The Doctor's done so much on his own...been alone for so long... He_ needs _someone, Mum. I have to go. _Please_." He stared at her with the biggest, bluest eyes she had ever seen. He clutched her hand in both his little ones. "You can come too, Mum. You can help him. I think he would like you."

Donna paused a moment, then sighed. For some reason she couldn't fully explain, her son's speech had made her sad. But, also, a little proud. "Oh, all right," she said, giving in and dropping down on all fours to crawl inside the box, the spaceship, after her son. "Let's go, then," she said to him, grinning wildly. "Mars needs our help. Off we go, Spaceman."


End file.
